


Hearts in Cages

by I_prefer_the_term_antihero



Series: Inktober Fics [6]
Category: Muted - Miranda Mundt (Webcomic)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst with a Hopeful Ending, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Inktober, Inktober 2020, Mabs Drawlloween Club, Mabs Drawlloween Club 2020, Mabs Drawlloween Club 2020 Prompt 6: Familiar, Prompt Fill, familiar, witch's familiar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_prefer_the_term_antihero/pseuds/I_prefer_the_term_antihero
Summary: What does it feel like to have a part of you caged and tortured? Avaline knows this feeling all too well. But maybe Raum can help end the cycle...or at least alleviate the pain.
Relationships: Avaline Severin & Athalie Severin, Avaline Severin & Beau, Avaline Severin & Raum, Raum & Beau
Series: Inktober Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1908046
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Hearts in Cages

**Author's Note:**

> **Spoilers for some of Muted's more recent chapters!!**
> 
> This was written for [Mabs Drawlloween Club 2020](https://www.instagram.com/p/CEsgGWfnFvU/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link) Prompt 6: Familiar!!
> 
> I'm trying something new with this prompt! For a long time I've wanted to try and do a sort of no-edit-run thing, where I write a fic and post it within the same day. I thought an inktober prompt or two would be a great way to try it out!  
> I have a couple Inktober lists saved to choose from, and when I saw "Familiar" I thought of Muted! I've been wanting to write about Raum especially for a while so I thought this'd be a great one!  
> I was expecting forcing myself to post in the same day as writing to be impossible, but somehow this ended up being super fun!  
> (But please do forgive me for any silly typos, as this was, indeed, written very fast, with minimal edits)
> 
> If you have any other ideas for me based off of any sorts of inktober prompts, don't hesistate to send me prompts!! (I'll probably post the lists I have saved on tumblr at some point!!)
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, I'd really _really_ appreciate if you'd say so in a comment!!

_The Queen of Hearts steps down the stone stairs in a black dress, and a glistening crown, like blades growing out of her head, a vulture perched on her shoulder. Her hair is grey, her expression immutable. That, and the malevolence betrayed by the lines of her face, makes her look like a much older woman than she actually is._

_Her footfalls sound rhythmically against the stones as she descends deeper into the dungeon, passing sconces; tongues of red fire blazing within them, which dance in her imperceptible eyes._

_When she reaches the dungeon there are no cells, no prisoners reaching their hands through the bars, begging for mercy._

_It is a single room, small, and the walls are shelves, lined with boxes emanating faint light from their locked lids._

_She stalks up to one side, finding one amongst the many. It’s nothing special, in look or placement within the rest._

_She glares down upon the name marked on the front:_

_“Avaline.”_

_Her expression barely changes but…There is such distain on her face._

_The vulture is holding a ring of keys in his mouth, and at this moment he lowers his head, offering them to her._

_It takes her too long to find the right one. Once she does she slides it into the lock._

_After the click, she returns the key to the ring and raises her hands—boney and pale, always too cold—and lifts the lid._

_The box is full of a foul-smelling, red liquid. Without hesitation the queen reaches her hands into the blood and pulls out—_

_Inside the box, inside all the boxes, is a heart. A heart, thumping, glowing slightly. It begins to thump faster as she holds it—(and far away a lonely girl grimaces and turns over in her sleep)—_

_The worst part is that, upon Athalie’s ever-emotionless face, a smile ruptures as she squeezes._

Avaline wasn’t quite sure what was real when she opened her eyes, all she knew was pain; pain radiating through her body, sharp and unassailable. A crow was screeching in the other room, and she could almost feel her mother’s cold hands. 

She didn’t know how long it went on before it subsided, and even when it did, she remained, shaking on the floor. 

She put a hand on her face, air a burden to her lungs, searing the back of her throat. 

Avaline told Camille she was lucky. That keeping her familiar locked in a cage for years was mild compared to having him locked away on top of a blood sigil. 

Her words were dull and blank…along with the rest of her. 

Beneath all that…she wanted to scream, she wanted to cry. 

She wanted to stand up, shove her chair back and shriek:

_Do you know what it’s like?! Do you know what it’s like to have a part of you ripped away?! Stripped away by someone you care about?! To have something you can’t live without trapped in a cage?! To have that piece of you tortured again and again?! Do you know what I’ve been going though?! No, you don’t, do you?! You only care about yourself!_

She may not quite mean the last few sentences…but she wanted to shout them all the same. 

What did it feel like? Well…it felt a little like withdrawals from a drug your quite fond of…and a lot like being beaten with a closed fist.

What did she do wrong? Why was she being punished for Camille’s disobedience?

Why couldn’t Camille just come home? It was so simple. Everything would go back to normal. And maybe normal wasn’t quite happy…but at least it wasn’t _this_.

Was mom right? Did Camille never care about her? Did she only tolerate her? Was she just a nuisance everyone was putting up with? A mosquito sucking the life out of everyone around her so she could breathe?

_Avaline Severin. You are a vision. You do not need to make a wish with me in order to find love._

She put her hands on the sides of her head.

Damn him too. Damn him for making her believe there was hope, that she was anything more than worthless, when she should just be put out of her misery, just face the truth.

She tried not to cry. Crying was for wimps, who couldn’t handle the world, and other assorted lowlifes.

…She wanted it. She craved tears, emotion. She craved them so much, sometimes, when she was alone, the cracks in the vase just broke.

But she didn’t get to cry and yell and make them listen. She didn’t get to stay away and sort all this out on her own. She didn’t get to make grand displays of defiance. She didn’t get to break down, and take down the world with her, like Camille did. She had to stay, and play, and get hurt, over and over, for everyone _else’s_ indiscretions…because she was the only one close enough for her mom to take it out on. 

Like she wasn’t even a thing herself; just a punching bag, a mirror, for everyone else to bounce off of. 

She was so, so tired. 

So tired from getting punched over and over. 

Mom didn’t have to hurt Beau just to get to her, did she? He didn’t do anything wrong. If she was going to hurt her, why couldn’t she just do it directly? 

To say she missed him couldn’t cover it. 

Would one say they missed their arm if it was wrenched out of its socket? Would one say they missed their heart if it was ripped out of their chest?

She hated how far he was from her…but she hated more how close he was. Just down the hall…worlds apart. 

(Just like Camille.)

And she couldn’t do anything to help, or be with, either of them. 

The pain that ran through her every time her mother put her hands on the sigil…

She couldn’t believe her mother would do this. 

Her mother certainly wasn’t the kindest, most nurturing people out there…that much was obvious. But Avaline never thought of her as cruel. Each time a thought too malicious ran through her, she tempered it by telling herself her mother was doing this all out of love. She told herself that she was right, tradition was important after all. That maybe they deserved all this. 

And yet, on nights like this, waking or sleeping, she wondered if the Red Queen wrenched people’s hearts out of their chests, and put them in boxes in her dungeon, and, when her subjects misbehaved, calmly walked down the stairs, opened the boxes, and relished as she squeezed. 

Because she was guessing that that would feel more than a little like this. 

* * *

The door creaked as Raum stepped into Athalie’s office. 

_“Mom, you’re back!” A child bounced happily into the room, blonde hair flickering.“Look, look!”_

_Athalie didn’t turn around._

_“Avaline.” The word was cold, yet something of a growl in her throat. “What have I told you about—”_

_Athalie turned around just enough to catch a glimpse, and now froze, her eyes shimmering with horror and distain._

_“WHAT. DID YOU DO. TO YOUR HAIR?!” The shriek was like—(what are they called? Oh, yes!)—microphone feedback._

Raum grimaced appropriately, his ears drooping.

_“Your blood. You bodies. Your soul. It doesn’t matter what a demon requires when it comes to securing the future of our family. You will give them to them without hesitation. So long as it is a fair price for what you have wished for.”_

How was it possible to get everything so wrong? What wish could possibly equal the price of a human soul?

_And they call_ me _a demon._

Even the the air in here tasted bitter.

Though Athalie was gone at the moment, the traces of her may never leave the room.

_“Who…there?”_ Came a weak caw from the other side of the room. 

He spun around to see the object of his quest: a crow in a cage. 

Beau wasn’t even standing; he was laying down on the table in the cage, his wings wrapped around himself, trembling, his red eyes doleful. There were some patches where his feathers were thin.

Raum’s face drooped even further.

_How could she do this to her own daughter?_

Well, he _knew_ how—he’d watched the scenes play out—yet he still couldn’t believe the cruelty of some humans at times.

Was it so hard to love one’s daughter?

He took a step closer. 

_“I did it! A crow! Just like Matriarch Vanessa!”_

Another, and the crow buried his beak in his feathers, sure he was going to get hurt again. 

_The crow buried his face in Avaline’s chest as the grey lady yelled, and the red girl’s woodpecker was taken away._

Raum knelt down in front of the cage, putting his hand on the table—(careful not to touch the blood sigil). 

“Well, hello there.” Raum said softly. “You must be Beau.” 

The crow peeked an eye out from behind his wing to look at him. Raum tried to smile, though his brow was still creased, his ears still down. 

“My name is Raum. You may have noticed I’m a demon too.” He smiled more genuinely. “Avaline summoned me.”

He began to lift his head.

_Beau snuggled up to Avaline, and she was warm, and gentle, and he would never leave her side._

“ _A-Avaline?_ ”

“Yes. I’m here to rescue you, as per her wish.”

_“R-Rescue?”_ His head was fully lifted now.

Raum snapped his fingers and the crow was in his hand. 

“Rescue.” He confirmed.

Beau looked around at his new surroundings, without the bars surrounding his view, then up at Raum with big eyes, cocking his head to the side, unsure.

“I promise I don’t eat crows.” Raum put a finger to his chin. “I feel like that’s cannibalism in your case, so, yeah, I won’t be doing that. 

“You’ll be hanging out with me for a little while.” He petted Beau’s head with the back of his finger. “I hope it won’t be too boring. In fact, we might even have fun together.” His ears perked up.

Beau shifted, beginning to stand up on his palm, his head cocking to one side, then the other, as his scrutinized Raum’s face. 

The crow cast his gaze at the door. 

“ _Avaline_.” He cawed softly. “ _Avaline hurt._ ”

Raum’s expression fell. 

“ _You rescue Avaline too?_ ”

“I want to…But she only wished for me to free you, and for the truth.”

He hung his head.

“ _Want to help._ ”

“Me too. But we’re doing what we can. You _are_ helping, Beau. More than anything what Avaline needs right now is friends like you, who care about her. She will feel much much better once you’re okay.”

Beau looked back at other demon, the uncertainty beginning to fade from his eyes. 

“I promise, no one’s going to hurt you on my watch…Nor Avaline, as much as I can help it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really enjoyed writing this...but I also kind of feel uneasy about writing something for a webtoon that's still ongoing...Like, I'm hoping that Beau is safe with Raum, and that he's the cinnamon roll he appears to be...but there's always the off chance that he's evil, and this fic will end up being totally inaccurate...


End file.
